Chance Meeting
by pretentious-emo-kid
Summary: 30 seconds in Kate's life under witness protection. Tate undertones. Experimental style.


Wow, was just looking for a document on my computer, and came across this. Wrote it absolutely ages ago, but was never brave enough to post it. It's...different...to what I usually write.

* * *

It's weird. Of all the people on my team, I would not have described Tony as the most observant. I know he's a brilliant agent, despite his determination to act like a complete idiot, and I know he's intelligent, but I would have been more likely to expect studious, analytical McGee, or quiet, but all-seeing, all-knowing Gibbs to spot the tiny anomaly in an otherwise run-of-the-mill scene.

Okay, perhaps I should back up a bit – I realise that what I'm about to tell you is a far fetched story of coincidence of the most bizarre kind.

It was a normal day of my life, about a week ago. Well, as normal as a day in the life of a woman under witness protection can be. I was walking down the street in clothes that I would not usually wear (but, of course that was the point), with my hair in a style I would not usually have it cut into, on the way to a job that I would not usually have applied for, when, walking towards me from the opposite direction, I saw my former colleagues.

Well, 'blast from the past' doesn't quite do it justice. There was Gibbs; his hand wrapped around a polystyrene cup of coffee, to his right was Tony, in an expensive looking pair of sunglasses, and to Gibbs' left, stood McGee, talking animatedly to the woman next to him; the woman who would previously have been me. Clearly, she was my replacement. She was pretty. I was glad she didn't look like me – that would have been too strange.

Anyway, I considered crossing the street to avoid walking past them, but something wouldn't let me. At the time, I told myself that I was curious. I wanted to see just how effective my disguise was. However, as I muse about it now, I think it was probably that I wanted them to recognise me. I missed them, and I missed my old life. Part of me, the reckless part of me, so badly wanted to walk past and have one of them grab my arm and exclaim, 'Kate! You're alive!' Maybe that's speculation – for a profiler, I can often find it very hard to understand myself, but that's my explanation for what I did next. I didn't turn away and make a swift escape; I didn't attempt to hide my face. No, I carried on with my intended course, my head high, and my knees trembling.

You could say that I was asking for what happened next. McGee carried on with his conversation, and Gibbs sipped from his coffee; both completely oblivious. However, Tony's hand reached up to his face, and removed aforementioned expensive looking sunglasses, to reveal a very shocked looking pair of eyes.

The whole incident took place in no more than ten seconds, but they seemed to be the longest ten seconds of my life. First was the initial, uncontrollable shock. He stared at me, his mouth open, his eyes wide. Next was the denial. I saw him shake his head, looking away from me – I was dead. However, he could not look away for long, and he was soon staring again, though this time, his expression was impossible to read, and when I say impossible, I mean _impossible_. Over the years, I had seen every single Tony DiNozzo facial expression, but this one threw me completely. I tried to identify the components. There was understanding in there, shock too, but there was also a hint of anger, I had deceived him, deceived them, in the worst possible way. I could also see camaraderie in the look. He wasn't going to shoot his mouth off to anyone.

By now, we were almost side by side. It so happened, that he was the person closest to me in the line of NCIS agents, and as he passed me, I felt his arm brush mine a little harder than necessary. It wasn't aggression; he just needed solid assurance.

After we had passed one another, we both turned our heads, reluctant to part gaze; I didn't want to break the link with the past I so dearly missed, he still needed some kind of sign that he wasn't hallucinating the whole thing.

However, he had soon melted into the crowds, and was gone. It was only once I could no longer make him out at all, that I turned back. It was at that moment that I stopped walking, and stood and wept. Why did I cry? I was finally mourning my own death.


End file.
